Kill The Lights
by MyNameIsM
Summary: The death of a loved one is the most painful way of showing life isn't a fairytale and the first trial against your will to carry on, you struggle to keep on living after the unthinkable. And if anyone knows about this struggle, it's Tiffany. One-Shot.


_Summery: The death of a loved one is the most painful way of showing life isn't a fairytale and the first trial against your will to carry on, you struggle to keep on living after the unthinkable. And if anyone knows about this struggle, it's Tiffany._

_Notes: Lyrics are from 'Kill The Lights' by The Birthday Massacre._

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**Kill The Lights**

_This story's missing a wishing well_

_No mirror to show and tell _

_No kiss that can break the spell_

_I'm falling asleep_

_Every prince is a fantasy_

_The witch is inside of me_

_The poison will wash away_

_The memory_

Rule one about the real world: nothing is easy. This isn't a fairytale. No fairy godmother is going to fix your life, you have to fix it yourself; and not every frog you kiss will turn into a prince, chances are they'll use you for all you've got then throw away your heart when they're done. Even if you are blessed enough to find your own Prince Charming, your life isn't guaranteed to run smooth forever after. For Princes are still people, no matter how perfect they seem: so they still fuck up, and they still _die._

Charles Lee Ray wasn't your conventional prince figure, but he was Tiffany's prince. They'd always been a pair, since the first flushes of teenage lust. He was her first kiss, her first fuck, he'd taken her to the prom and he was there on her first kill. The first shot of powerful adrenaline from the blood lust was shared between the lover's souls. Tiffany didn't believe in true love, her mother had told her it was a myth made up by softhearted women; but she and Chucky were different.

They were made for each other.

From cradle to High school, they'd been together as friends. Since then they'd shared a house, shared a bed. Chucky was far from the perfect man, he was a delusional asshole at the best of times. But she wasn't quite perfect either. Neither were they the perfect couple.

They'd often argue bitterly, disputes that often turned to full blown fights. But despite the constant ups and downs of their chemistry, they were in love, and they'd kill anyone who's try to mess with their partner.

Chucky, being the jealous type, was more prone to this than Tiffany. He had a drunk temper that was easy to loose and if anyone so much as _thought about _making a move on his woman, he'd lay them to waste. That was how he became the notorious strangler. His victims were a lone line of guys who had looked the wrong way at the wrong time.

And this quick temper, this deep jealousy would lead to his demise. For serial killings don't go unnoticed by the law enforcement.

Tiffany's Prince Charming didn't die in the gallant way that was traditional fashion for leading men. Getting gunned down in a toy store was miles away from the glamor of the sword fights and black magic of the movies.

_We kill the lights_

_And put on a show_

_It's all a lie_

_But you'd never know_

_The star will shine_

_And then it will fall_

_And you will forget it all_

_And after midnight we're all the same_

_No glass shoe to bring us fame_

_Nobody to take the blame_

_We're falling apart_

Tiffany had received the new in the bath, of all places. She liked to watch TV, it passed the time, and ,after all, is there anything more relaxing than catching a romantic movie in a bubble bath? But, it was a bit late for the blond's usual favorite black and white classics: she had stayed up to wait for Chucky to come home, after he so rudely deserted her at the bar they had previously been in, and, for lack of anything better to do, had taken a bath.

Flicking idly through the channels, only staying for a few seconds on each show, she had stumbled across a late night news show. A 'Breaking News' headline was jumping hyper actively across the screen, blaring it's message in big, red letters. _**Breaking News: Local Serial Killer, The Lakeshore Strangler, Gunned Down In Toy Store. **_Instantly, Tiffany's blood ran cold and she went painfully rigid. The news report was blaring out, but she couldn't hear it. All that mattered, the focus of her whole world, were the images that danced across the small TV screen.

Bits of words ad sentences swam in her head, battling with the buzzing of her stress induced headache. Her temples thumped and her eyes sang with the salt of her tears. He was dead. He was really dead. A painful lump clogged up her throat and the world was blurred by the collection of her building tears of disbelief.

Suddenly everything seemed so unfair. Everything was suddenly wrong. He was gone, really _gone_. Gone somewhere she couldn't get him back from.

They were going to get married. Tiffany had found the ring earlier; Chucky had obviously left it out for her to find. It was beautiful. It was big. It must of cost a fortune. And that meant he loved her.

She'd already started to plan it out. She wanted a big church wedding, with an army of brides maids and a white dress with a train a mile long. She wanted a Vail, and a bouquet of white roses. A story book wedding, with her handsome prince waiting at the alter to make her his.

But now some bastard officer had killed him and had burned her dreams right in front of her eyes. He was dead. Chucky was dead.

The lump in her throat had contracted suddenly and the first sob had escaped her shuddering body.

_Every story's a waiting game_

_A flower for every name_

_Their colors are filling you_

_With falling rain_

It had been raining heavily on the day of the funeral. Despite the decease's extensive family, only two people inhabited the small chapel: Chucky himself, in his own casket, and Tiffany. The perfect picture of sorrow; with her pink eyes, sore from the hours spent mourning her loss, and her all black attire. A black Vail hid her face and between her long, pale fingers she spun a single white rose. She placed the single bloom in the hands of her dead lover. Her hand grasped his cold skin as she payed her last respects.

"Chucky, I just want you you know, I love you. And I found your ring; I promise I'll never take it off. Every time I need strength, I'll look at it and think of you, sweet face." She took a deep shuddering breath, and tried to swallow the lump that was reforming in her throat. "Just so you know, I would of been very happy to become Tiffany Ray. I swear I'll never love again. You were the only man for me."

She swallowed again and, bending over the casket, she pressed a kiss to his cold cheek. Her lipstick left a faint purple mark on the waxen skin. While still bent over him, Tiffany whispered one final oath in his ear: "I'll find who did this to you, Chucky, and I'll kill him. All for you, doll. All for you."

"I'll see you in hell." Then, straightening up her skin tight black dress, she left the chapel, pausing at the entrance to look back over her shoulder and witness her spoiled prince one last time.

_We kill the lights_

_And put on a show_

_It's all a lie_

_But you'd never know_

_The star will shine_

_And then it will fall_

_And you will forget it all_

_Now you know it's so much better to pretend_

_There's something waiting for you here_

_Every letter that you wrote_

_Had found it's way to me my dear_

_You can make beleive that what you say_

_Is what I want to hear_

He left a hole inside her. A hole no man could fill. Even after she avenged him, all those years later, in cold blood, it didn't stop hurting.

He was never far from her thoughts, no matter what distractions the cruel world threw at her. And every time she killed, she killed for him. Every drop of blood spilled in her anger was a tribute to the memory of Chucky.

Of Charles Lee Ray.

Of Tiffany's Spoiled Prince Charming.

_I'll keep on dancing through this beautiful, delusional career_

_Faking every tear_

_Looking like a comprimise suicide_

_Keeping all my dreams alive_

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End file.
